


Monuments and Gardens, II

by lyekvss



Series: The Garden [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (again), Gen, Mentioned Hank Anderson, One Shot, Russian Roulette Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), Zen Garden (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyekvss/pseuds/lyekvss
Summary: When he opened his eyes, the Garden was cool. Darker. He felt the wetness of rain on his cheeks and shoulders. Everything around him was gray, just like his jacket. Connor glanced down at the umbrella in his hand. Amanda.





	Monuments and Gardens, II

**Author's Note:**

> Been playing the game like crazy. I'm in love with it so far, and it's extremely difficult to try and not rectify my past decisions. I know I have to finish it at least once, first, ha.
> 
> Anyways, this is the second Zen Garden sequence. Yet again, Connor-centric. Trying to stay in his frame of mind and tool around with this monument some more. Perhaps slightly canon divergent again? I'm trying to figure out the intricacies of how all this should work together in my style and with how the game seems to handle things. Surely as I write for DBH more everything won't seem so mediocre. I'll also branch away from "cookie cutter" scenes and actually delve off into my own narratives. But, again, I need to finish the game first.
> 
> NOTE: What is in italics and should be Hank's words somewhere near the beginning of this probably aren't exact to what he says in-game. I vaguely remember him saying something similar to what I wrote but not what it is exactly. The game has taken me through a whirl of emotions and things seem to blend together when you've played 5 missions in one sitting, ha.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and, as obviously stated by the title and the fact that this is in a series, I will try and write about every Zen Garden scene. (As I'm sure there are multiple more than two.)

When he opened his eyes, the Garden was cool. Darker. He felt the wetness of rain on his cheeks and shoulders. Everything around him was gray, just like his jacket. Connor glanced down at the umbrella in his hand. Amanda.

The last time he’d been there, it was vibrant and alive. Though the digital space still breathed in its own way, the muted grays of the sky and the rain dampened it a bit.

The RK800 began his walk, optics trailing over everything around him. The pond was only disturbed by the pattering of rain coming down upon the surface. And, of course, the occasional koi fish that rose to the surface and then dipped back down again.

The chase. Saving Lieutenant Anderson when, clearly, Connor’s probabilities had shown a high chance of his survival. The AX400 deviant getting away—because he didn’t follow. Lieutenant Anderson told him not to. He’d listened to the Lieutenant, because that was in his programming to do so, to listen to his peers. But…

Connor came to rest before the small geometrical monument again. Jagged edges and a myriad of blues from the interface flooded his view. His warm brown gaze flitted over it. He gripped the umbrella. His jacket was wet, the rain seeping into his shirt and making it stick to his synthetic skin. Connor looked up, almost walked away.

No, he needed to feel it again. The jolt. What was it? His processes shuddered down in front of him, lighting up every possibility. In doing so, his HUD quivered, objectives and links flickering past his view and away into thick ribbons of code.

A question without an answer. A case without a singular lead. Deviants running amok and Connor failing to be efficient. Failing to follow simple orders.

Chase the deviant, the lieutenant will survive.

Follow them across the road, they must not escape.

_What’re you, crazy? You could’ve been killed, Connor._

Connor knelt down again. He furrowed his brow, bringing his hand up to the print. The synth-skin melted away, he could’ve sworn he felt his fingers lightly shake, which was impossible. He’d the best grip and hand steadiness in the world at that point. Though he didn’t need to breathe, he inhaled and held it. Why? The flat of his palm met the cool surface, lightly peppered with raindrops.

Everything around him fluttered with an overload of sensations to his components. The bright light happened again, dimmer but not calmer. His optics flashed black intermittently, but he realized he was only blinking. It felt as if someone had kicked him in his thirium pump. The android’s LED pulsed yellow before returning to blue. He leaned away slightly, hand pulling back as if he’d been scalded; letting out that one breath, his chest whirring.

The RK800 looked at the interface again. The blue pixels fluttering, inviting him. The print, gently pulsating, awaiting a hand to unlock it.

Connor tried once more. The synth-skin hadn’t moved back over his hand. He hovered his white palm. What was that? It flickered in his chest. What? He felt his hand twitch. He quarantined the fleeting code in the back of his mind. Nothing to take note of. He’d recalibrate, assess the string, and it would be gone.

His hand hovered closer, fingertips barely reached the interface again when his motors whirred and he turned away swiftly. His LED violently spun yellow, dark and saturated. He was… unnerved. He noted to himself to try and not interact with the monument again when he eventually returned, pulling up the objective on his HUD, linking it to the monument.

**[ DO NOT INTERACT ]**

_< Objective ???. Overridden. Overridden. Objective ???.>_

What? Connor glanced at the monument. He didn’t move from his spot on the stone path. Again. Perhaps a different string of words would work.

**[ PROHIBIT INTERACTION ]**

_< Overridden. Objectives overloaded. Please recalibrate.>_

Connor flinched. He hung the umbrella handle around his wrist and took out his coin. Recalibrate. He flicked it quickly, walking around the smooth bend of the pond. The koi fish moved up to the rippling surface and then back down. The rain fell rhythmically around Connor, filling his audio processors with a white-noise. The coin moved through the air gracefully, a flash of silver in the gray surrounding the RK800. Connor caught it and flipped it over his knuckles, then the other way, and then over them again. He stopped. That was sufficient. He had spent 3 minutes and 45 seconds calibrating.

Connor had went around to the other side of the pond, the monument far off in the Garden. Well, if he could just keep away from it, then perhaps there was no need for an outright objective. But, why couldn’t he set one surrounding the monument? It was illogical. Nothing should prohibit him from setting an objective. He hadn’t the slightest knowledge that his objectives were overloaded, either. Was it the work of the monument?

The android didn’t realize it, but his LED had begun swirling a pale yellow color, lighting up the right side of his forehead. Connor ran yet another diagnostics scan, just like the last time he’d been at the Garden.

_< No bio-components missing or damaged. Thirium levels operative, battery level at 96%, stress levels at 61% and climbing. Stress levels of note, objective banks… All other systems stable. Status sub-optimal.>_

Sub-optimal. Objective banks. Stress levels. Connor took the umbrella in his hand again. This was wasting time, and it was illogical to keep running tests like this. He needed to make a report. He’d quarantine the strings and deal with them when he wasn’t in the Garden.

He approached Amanda, his LED swirling blue as he came close to his trusted peer. He already felt his stress levels slip back down significantly. Connor’s lips perked in yet another smile. “Hello, Amanda.”

Amanda’s dark eyes flicked to him. She’d been watching the center canopy in the middle of the pond. “Connor, I’ve been expecting you.” Her head tilted slightly, her smile broadening just so. She still held herself with a collected air, the smile was a formality of trust. “Would you mind a little walk?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
